


The Spy That Knew Me

by multifandomkingdom



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Enola Holmes Series - Nancy Springer
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, One Shot, Romance, Short One Shot, Spies & Secret Agents, holmesbury - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomkingdom/pseuds/multifandomkingdom
Summary: Enola and Tewksbury as spies that used to be "married" but...
Relationships: Enola Holmes & Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury, Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Kudos: 20





	The Spy That Knew Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I was watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Enola Holmes back to back and said, let's fuse 'em! Hope you enjoy. BTW Tewky's first name in this is Reese!

Reese Tewksbury pulled on the doors. No luck. He looked for an out. He sees an emergency hatch on the ceiling. His nemesis and, dare he say it, his match, Enola Holmes, was close and around. And he wasn't going to blow this mission because of her presence, as entertaining as she was. So if he had to tango and play his cards right, he would. Even if it was a pain in the ass to do it now.

"Too high." He mutters.

"This is your first and last warning, Reese." he heard over the intercom. Enola was amused now.

"You know I'm not going anywhere." he so loved their little talks.

"So you say. But right now, you're sealed in a narrow hallway above eighty floors of thin, clear, and oh-so-there air. Do you really want to play with fate right now, Tewks?" 

The penny drops. Reese looks around him. 

"Oh, so this is a trap?"

Enola gives a little sliver of a smile. Cat with mouse. 

"Think I'd be stupid enough to leave a sensitive number on a known phone? I thought you were more than just a pretty face Tewks." 

Reese rechecks the emergency hatch, still too high. 

"So, Holmes, what you got up there, a shaped charge on the counterweight cable and two more on the primary and secondary brakes?"

One of Enola's members of her team mutters, "he knows."

Enola smiles. Slightly impressed. 

"Whatever your plan is, it's not going to work because you constantly underestimate me."

Enola raised an amused brow at that. 

"Oh, do I?"

"You have no idea what I am capable of." 

"Likewise."

Another colleague of Enola's leans in. Urgent, impatient, and says, "Enola, we don't have time for this."

Enola, refocusing her attention back to her admittedly handsome adversary, continued with the plan.

"First and last warning, Tewks."

A beat. Reese gives a little smile. Bold, defiant. 

"OK. I give up. Blow it." 

Reese takes his belt off and wraps it around one hand. 

Enola, mildly stunned, says, "Excuse me?"

"Go on, blow it. I dare you." Now a little on the defense, she retorts 

"You think I won't?"

"C'mon, brass balls, blow it. Are you scared to, Holmes?"

The timer in her colleague's hand counts down, reminding her of what she'd be losing as she stalls. 

"I'll do it."

"What's the matter. You all talk and no walk?" 

Reese looks into the camera, where he knows Enola can see him. He makes a little move: a bow and a wave. Enola smiles softly, despite herself. 

Enola's finger hesitates over the command enter key. She shuts her eyes. Her finger millimeters above the key. Tewks smiles. 

"See?"

And just like that, before her eyes, Enola sees Tewky disappear into the smoke that followed the explosion. 

But wait. 

Her camera that was on him was picking up something.

Reese is thrown off his feet. Hitting the roof. He grabs the surveillance camera. His skin ripples from the speed and heat. He smiles, blows a kiss.

And with a swift punch, he smashes it. Enola is met with a static hiss on her end. 

She sits frozen, her finger still hovering above the button. She looks around the room. 

"What the bloody hell just happened?!"

She sees a tech girl's laptop flash: RELEASE.

Enola's eyes were ablaze.

The ignorant girl dared to ask, "what? You said zero."

***

Enola's team is moving. She stares at her static screen. Rocked and dizzy. Another agent grabs her. 

People gape at the site. Twisted steel. Nuclear damage. She and her team emerging from the stairwell. 

Enola approaches the wreckage. She sees a scrap of Tewky's belt in the smouldering rubble. She blinks hard. 

Enola is pulled into the crowd, as she hears the sirens swell. Police lights dance across her face, slowly as she tries to walk away.

***

Enola finds herself walking under glittering Christmas lights in an exclusive restaurant. New York's most decadent digs lead her through the flashy, ultra-chic mecca. A server says to her. 

"Your table is waiting, Miss. Holmes."

Enola wears a jaw-dropping dress. Just her taste. But something was missing in her eyes. 

"Closed another deal, did you?" a baritone voice asks. Enola flatly replies, "Yes. I did."

She just sits down at a table for one. She stares around the room. Couples, families, in love. She sips her champagne. 

Very much alone. 

On Christmas Eve. 

A single tear rolls down her cheek. She gulps her champagne. Reaches for the bottle. The same man's voice returns, 

"You wouldn't be getting all mushy about killing a spy Viscount, would you?"

She turns slowly to see him. Reese. Tewksbury. 

Right across the table. 

Alive and well. 

In a suit.

Smiling.

Gorgeous. 

"Admit it."

Enola is blown away "...how...?"

"Impressed?" he takes satisfaction in her stunned expression.

"Amazed..."

"Amazed I'm still alive?" 

"Amazed you had time to shave and get a haircut too."

"Well, I'm full of surprises."

"That suit's certainly one of them."

"Thanks. I lifted it off a noble outside."

The waiter comes over to ask if he should set another place. Using the distraction, Reese grabs a napkin in one seamless move, shifts under his coat, snatches a Glock with one hand, drops it into his lap, and wedges it under the table. Enola knocks her handbag off the table and bends over to pick it up, palming a silenced finger-gun in her left hand and whipping it across the table to hide under a napkin. 

"So..."

"So..."

"Hands-on the table?"

A beat passes. Reese nods. They both slowly put their hands on the table. Reese pours more champagne. 

He smiles—Broad, warm. 

"How did you know where..."

"This is where I fake-proposed that one mission, the first and last time you and I worked together before being split up to opposing agencies. I figured you'd be feeling a little ... sentimental."

Enola hardens. 

"I come for the clams."

He motions to the dress. 

"That the new dress?" 

"What do you want, Tewks."

We have to talk."

"About what?"

"Oh, come on, Enola. You  _ know _ what. Us."

"There's no such thing."  _ Ah, he loved her stubbornness.  _

"You're still Lady Tewksbury."  _ She knows, but she'll bury that quickly. _

"So were a lot of girls before me. That's the way the ascension works. Plus you know that that was hardly real. We were working." 

She was trying not to let her true emotions show. But he made it difficult with his budding earnestness and beautiful eyes.

"So there's nothing between us?"  _ he called bullshit _ .

"Just a table."  **_ there's _ ** the bullshit.

A waiter comes over, "Are you ready to order?"

They keep their eyes locked on each other.

Without flinching or tearing his eyes away from Enola, Reese replied

"My quote-unquote wife/ ex will have the clams. I'll have a steak."

"How would you like that, sir?"

Enola responds, "He'll be having it very well done."

A band starts, and they look up: people dancing. 

Reese and Enola's eyes lock, thinking the same thing.

"Are you dancing?"

"Are you asking?"

"Oh, I'm asking."

"Well, I'm dancing."

They stand like they're starting a fight. Reese pulls Enola close. Carefully sliding his hands up and down her body. The hottest almost-frisk in history. 

"Just checking."

She spins him around and shoves him up against the wall checking his waist and coat. 

He looks at her half-amused, half annoyed,

"Satisfied?"

"Not for years."

Enola leads him to the floor. Reese looks at her. 

"You think we have a chance, E?" 

" We shall see."

Enola pushes him onto the dance floor, and yanks Reese close.

They are nose to nose. Enola leads a hard, heavy waltz. 

"You're leading."

Enola stops on a dime. Dips Reese. Cracks his back. She unclasps her hair. The locks fall. Framing her face beautifully. For the first time in years, her hair is completely down. 

"I thought you liked to chase. You want the lead? Then take the lead."

Reese licks his lips. And they find themselves dancing and allowing their bodies and instinct to dictate their steps. Swirl across the old wood floor. Pushing faster, harder. Fluid. Graceful. Brilliant. Other dancers stop to watch. 

"Enola, tell me something...Our movie, "Star Wars." Was it just part of the cover? Or did you really like it?"

I liked Princess Leia. But not Han. 

"You don't like Han Solo?!"

"He's all-flash. Not sharp enough."

She could be describing Reese. She hits a mark as they glide. Edge of the floor. Reese spins her around. Taking the lead. 

Leia was his other half. His match" 

"She could do anything he could. But backward and in heels."

"Just like you. Always backpedaling. Never toe to toe."

Offended, Enola backpedals faster than Reese can dance forward. 

"And you fight like Han. Big, sweeping motions going nowhere fast. I can see you coming from a mile away."

He spins her, getting close—intense, real, sweating.

"Tell me, was it hard "loving" me on that mission?" he may have sounded like he was joking, but he was  _ genuinely _ curious. And just a tad bit hopeful.

She would avoid that because she wasn't about to reveal that she had been and was still in love with the man that she was now an enemy to (well, their agencies were enemies, not them, but you get it). SO she was going to deflect.

"You know men are all the same. There can be fifty mistakes in a "happy marriage" so long as they're all his."

"Why do you care if I was just cover?"

"I could ask you the same question, actually."

"Who said you were just cover?"

Their hearts were thudding rapidly.

"Well, was I?"

"Was  _ I _ ?"

"I asked you first, Reese."

"well, I asked you second."

They knew they were being childish, but neither wanted to give in.

They stop dancing. A little dizzy. Silence. Reese comes up with,

"OK. On three, one, two, three....you didn't say anything."

Wha-Neither did you!"

They look at each other. Compelled. Bodies close. Enola seems as if she's about to break. Reese moves towards her. Gorgeous. Closer, closer. Enola turns away toward a waiter. 

"Excuse me where's the bathroom?"

"Just over here madame."

"Thank you."

Reese watches her walk away. Enola follows the waiter. She turns the corner. 

"Be sharp, Reese. She's a liar. Be super cold."

Enola pulls out wads of toilet paper, a garbage can in her other hand. A coiffed woman stares at her. 

"Could I borrow a light?"

Reese waits. He starts to look concerned. 

"She can't hide in there forever. A coiffed woman coming from the bathroom comes racing out, looking concerned. Suddenly, the fire sprinklers go off, raining water across the restaurant. People start panicking. 

"Everyone remain calm! Please exit the restaurant as quickly as possible, leave all belongings behind."

Reese smiles as he is engulfed by the crowd.

***

Reese's best friend and fellow agent, Lance, had to ask the million-dollar question.

"How'd it go?" 

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know the rules, mate. You've gotta finish this" Reese knew he had to kill Enola, but it didn't mean he  **_ wanted _ ** to.

"I said I don't wanna talk about it -"

"She's not your wife!"

Reese holds his finger up. They sit in silence for a few moments. Lance leans over. His friend continues,

"Are you ticking?"

Reese frowns, listens. 

"Oh shit."

Reese quickly rips off his jacket, throws it out the window. Reese's jacket bursts into a ball of fire as the tiny incendiary detonates. Lance looks at Reese, a knowing expression on his face. 

"Pull. Ier. Get out."

Lance is confused, "What did I do?"

"It's not you. I can't ask you to go with me Lance, it's too dangerous."

"It's OK, mate, I'm cool."

"Well, I'm not cool Lance, I'm so fucking far from cool."

Lance gets out. Reese slides into the driver's seat. 

Lance looks at him, his eyes dead serious,

"Your name's on the docket at dawn. Open contract, class one. You need to finish this. And fast... It's time to clean house, brother."

Reese slams the car into gear.

*** 

As Enola drives to complete her mission, her phone rings,

"Hello?" She recognized that the voice was Tewksbury's

"You could have killed Lance."

Rolling her eyes, she responded,

"Oh please, it was only a little one." 

"I want you to know: I'm going to our old "home," for the hell of it, and I'm going to start burning everything I ever "bought" you when we were on that mission three weeks ago."

Enola gives a dangerous smile, thinking about home. 

"Race you there, Tewky."

Enola speeds through traffic. Her eyes are hard, narrow, focused. Her cell rings yet again. She grabs it. 

"What do you want, Reese?"

He doesn't exactly know. 

Traffic is a blur in their windows as if there is no more outside world. Only Reese and Enola. 

"I ... I want you to tell me one last thing. Tell me the first thing you thought, the first time we met."

Enola is caught off guard. She pauses.

", because I'll tell you what I thought. I thought... that is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life."

Enola's eyes narrow. Suspicious. Is this strategy? She asks,

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I guess, in the end, you start thinking about the beginning. I just thought you should know the truth."

Enola softens slightly. But she holds tight. 

He continues, "So tell me. Truth."

Enola fights herself, struggling with the truth. 

"I thought...I thought...that is the most beautiful...target I have ever seen. With an odd haircut," 

Reese nods to himself. Getting focused. 

"So it was all business. From go."

Enola, followed by the weak, cracking of her phone, responded,

"All business. Cold ... hard..." she knew she was lying. She wanted more than anything to tell him that it was not all a lie. that she, in fact, wanted to be with him. that she actually did fall in love with him even when she wasn't supposed to. But how do you tell the person you love that you have to kill them too?

Reese feels something tighten in his chest and gives a sad, little smile. 

Resolved to fate now. 

"Thanks. All I needed to know."

He hangs up the phone. His armor is on. He punches the gas.

***

Home Sweet Home. Reese races up first. Enola is hot on his heels, crossing the front lawn, T-boning his car, sending it flying into a wall. Enola continues down their driveway as Reese hops out of his car, leaps over the hedges, past Enola's deserted car, into God knows what.

Reese rips open his trapdoor. Drops down to his den. But finds empty walls. Stripped bare. He stands gut-punched. 

"Shit."

On the prowl and in assault mode. Enola sneaks through "their" old house, searching for Reese. 

Reese runs topside, carrying his favorite giant gardening shears. His only weapon. He sees the back door open. And Enola emerges, strapped with Reese's hardware. She raises two guns. A moment of truth. A half beat. Can she pull the trigger? And the answer is a resounding yes. She opens fire. Bullets fly by Reese's ears. He leaps down into his garden. Hiding in rows of flowers. Enola fires silenced Glocks. Eating up the flowers.

***

He shoots her Christmas Tree splitting its trunk. It tips, falling straight at Enola. She leaps away onto a broken chair. Exposed. 

Reese fires. Blasts the chair. He sees Enola fall. Her gun slips out of her hand on her way down.

As Reese rolls out, Enola's eyes move desperately. She rips a string of Christmas lights off the ground. And snaps! Lashing Reese's hand. His gun flies across the room. Reese and Enola lunge in opposite directions. Toward each other's guns. Reese grabs Enola's. Enola grabs Reese's. And they spin to see...a gun in their respective faces. 

The Moment of Truth.

Dust and debris waft around them. Trigger fingers tighten. They circle each other. Their eyes locked. Hammers cocked. A noise follows as a frame falls. On instinct, they glance and see ragged photos and mementos strewn everywhere. Their "life" stares out at them. Their  _ home _ . They lock eyes again. And they  _ genuinely _ see each other. 

Real, raw, point-blank. 

Something about the way Reese looks at Enola is different, emotional, off-putting. Time freezes. The barrel shakes on his gun. Reese looks into his wife's eyes (he's gotten too used to calling her that to stop now). And he cannot pull the trigger. He didn't think he ever could. He loved her too much.

So he slowly...lowers...his barrel. Enola blinks sweat out of her eyes. Confused, suspicious. Her eyes flit fast, looking for tricks. But what she sees is...Old photos. Knick-knacks. A (very short) lifetime of memories (they were only "married" for a little under two years, but a lot had happened then). A photo of Enola and Reese stares out at her. She knew how she felt about him then. And it only intensified now.

She blinks hard, struggling internally. Starting to crack. And slowly...her trigger finger loosens. 

She drops her gun and lunged into a kiss. Reese and Enola collided. All of the tension and thrill of the chase pour into their kiss. Their hands move fast. Hungry, desperate. They slide to the ground. Little do they know that a battered piece of mistletoe hung above them, swaying in the breeze.

***

Reese and Enola lay in a tangle of sweaty sheets staring up at the ceiling in utter confusion.

They both smile.

She looks angelic in the morning sun. Reese and Enola stare at each other as if seeing one another for the first time. This is the best it's  **_ ever _ ** been.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!!


End file.
